


Clothes Make the Man

by K_Hanna_Korossy



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:10:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5855389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_Hanna_Korossy/pseuds/K_Hanna_Korossy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack takes Teal'c shopping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clothes Make the Man

First published in _New Worlds & False Gods 6_ (2003)

 

"This," O'Neill spread his hands dramatically, "is J.C. Penney."

Teal'c took in the scene before him with impassive features. So, this was to be the site of their mission. They'd just come from the crowded area in which they'd abandoned their vehicle, along with many others, through the transparent door, and now stood inside the cool building. A jay-cee penny was apparently an indoor market of remarkable size and variety. The ceiling was high, as in the gateroom, but white, and Teal'c could see only the nearest walls, the others stretching on out of sight, or concealed by the rows and passages of merchandise. There was no question the structure rivaled a pyramid in its size and confusing layout.

"This is where we are to buy clothing?"

"Yep. Hammond's orders. BDUs and togas are fine around the SGC, but we don't want you to stick out too much in town. Uh, more than you already do."

Teal'c didn't react. It was true most of the Tauri were smaller than he, but Gustafson of SG-9 was two fingers' width taller, as were more than one of the base security personnel. He had never seen any of them wear anything but military attire, but then, he had not seen them off-base. Indeed, Teal'c had hardly been off-base before himself, even less to the city that lay nearby. He was always curious to learn more about his new home and people, but understood General Hammond's reluctance to let him roam free among the Tauri outside the base. He, too, would have been cautious had the situation been reversed.

Which was why it seemed natural one of his teammates accompany him on this shopping expedition. O'Neill had volunteered when General Hammond recommended the mission, which pleased Teal'c, but seemed to surprise everyone else. From Captain Carter's comments, Teal'c took it that males of the planet were usually not the ones who went out to purchase items of clothing, at least not willingly. This did not explain how such unmarried males such as O'Neill were expected to acquire garments, but then, there was still a lot Teal'c didn't understand. One thing he did know was that he trusted O'Neill and was glad his team leader had chosen to go with him on this important excursion. The two of them together made a formidable team, no matter the challenge.

"Where do we begin, O'Neill? I do not see any robes." He still missed his own "off-duty" garments, the comfortable and unconfining clothing of his people.

"Uh, they don't do robes here, Teal'c. Maybe we'll hit the Halloween shop later, huh? Right now, we're here to get you some _style_."

Why did the idea of O'Neill's concept of style make Teal'c cringe? And what was a hallow-een shop?

O'Neill was already moving, making his way along the leftmost of the passages that snaked out before them. His gaze shifted with his usual alertness, but was more relaxed than when they were off-world. Despite General Hammond’s orders, this was an informal mission, then, although Teal'c wasn't certain what to expect from such an undertaking. For now, he simply hurried to follow before he got lost. There was much to look at, his head turning quickly as they walked.

"What are these, O'Neill?"

"That's kitchen stuff, Teal'c – stuff you make dinner with." He leaned closer confidingly without breaking stride. "I don't get how half of it works, either. Gimme a grill and a steak any day."

Since he did not know what a "grill" was, Teal'c did not comment. Perhaps it was what males cooked on.

"These are for children?" He slowed again near a display of small shoes, too small for adult Tauri feet. He had seen earth children on television, if not in person on the base, and they seemed much like the children of Chulak, smaller versions of adults. It had somehow been comforting to know the Tauri were like them in this also, not developing through metamorphic life changes such as on Vidra, where the adults had many more eyes and limbs than their offspring. Such similarities made this alien world a little less strange, and relieved a little of the Jaffa's homesickness for his own child.

There was a real Tauri infant cocooned in some sort of harness on a female not far from him, and Teal'c stepped closer for a better look. Another example of Tauri ingenuity; Drey'auc would no doubt have appreciated such a device for Rya'c when his son had been an active infant. The mother took one look at him and moved quickly away.

"Uh, yeah." O'Neill pulled him back with one hand. "Let's not scare the nice people, now. Moms tend to get a little overprotective of the kids."

Teal'c nodded. "As on our planet. I believe that is a universal trait of mothers."

"Yeah." O'Neill was sounding more subdued, hurrying past the children's area. Perhaps it held bad memories. Children on Chulak were not as pampered as the Tauri‘s, but they were loved as much and Teal'c could imagine O'Neill's pain of having lost his one son. He did not ask any more questions there, walking quickly as to not delay O'Neill's moving on to another section. But perhaps he would inquire of Captain Carter someday if there were a way to buy some things for Rya'c. Perhaps some of those finely stitched sandals. It was clearly a superior choice to the puffed white shoes held together with string he'd seen next to them.

The next area was unquestionably female clothing, dresses similar to those Teal'c had seen on the television. Some were short enough that he was tempted to ask O'Neill about the Tauri standards of decency, except he wasn't certain he wanted to start his team leader on such a discussion. Teal'c held his tongue until they walked on to a quarter that seemed to contain only small bits of lacey clothing. Perhaps for certain rituals or celebrations? They were reminiscent of the attire of the dancers during holidays on Chulak.

"O'Neill. What is the purpose of such clothing?" Teal'c pointed to one assortment that looked like short, transparent dresses trimmed in fur of animals.

O'Neill hastily shoved his hand down. "It's called lingerie." He eyed Teal'c. "Don't tell me on Chulak they don't– . . . of course not." He shook his head, looking decidedly uncomfortable.

Perhaps they did not speak openly of such rituals? Teal'c prepared to withdraw the question when O'Neill leaned closer, his voice falling dramatically.

"It's what women wear for their men . . . you know, for those, uh, special nights. . ." His face was beginning to turn red, the interesting Tauri trait of "blushing." He waved a hand. "Look, Teal'c, just forget it. Trust me, you don't need any of this stuff today." And then as if struck by his own words, he gave Teal'c a speculative glance before shaking his head again and moving on, returning to the mission at hand.

Teal'c regarded the clothing once more, turning over O'Neill's words. Special nights . . . Ah. Rituals of conception. Now he understood. A small smile playing on his lips, Teal'c followed after O'Neill.

The dresses gave way to outer clothing, far more appropriate for the climate of his current world than his home one, and Teal'c looked it over with curiosity.

"We'll come back here later. You're gonna need some winter clothes, too." O'Neill barely turned or slowed as he spoke. Perhaps he was still red in the face. This was turning into an even more educational trip than Teal'c had imagined. His hands behind his back, he strode on, observing all he could.

Finally, they seemed to reach the men's department, the "shirts" Teal'c had observed on General Hammond and others in uniform. These, however, came in a startling variety of colors, not just the blue he saw on base. It seemed the television was once again correct in its portrayal of the outside world. Somehow, that did not seem to be greatly reassuring.

O'Neill stopped in front of the shirt section, then, taking a deep breath as if he were about to enter combat, waded in. Teal'c followed.

"Okay, first thing's first." O'Neill turned to critically eye him. "Let's forget the numbers and just go for . . . large." His hands, held out to either side, seemed to encompass two of Teal'c. "We'll try that first, and go on to 'big and tall' if it's too small." How "large" was different from "big," O'Neill did not say, and he seemed too preoccupied for Teal'c to ask, so the Jaffa merely watched as he looked through the racks of garments.

"Any favorite colors?" O'Neill asked absently as he searched.

"I prefer ash and vermilion."

Wide brown eyes under uplifted eyebrows turned to look at him. "Vermilion?" O'Neill asked in disbelief.

Perhaps there was a meaning to that color Teal'c did not know? He did not back down, though, lifting his chin and repeating firmly. "Vermillion. It is a deep red–"

"I know what color it is," O'Neill cut in. "It's just not really a . . . guy thing to have fancy names for colors, y'know? Dark red, grey, that kind of thing is okay. You sound like an . . . interior designer or somethin'."

Teal'c raised an eyebrow. "Captain Carter used these names when she shared with me her intentions for adorning her house."

"Carter's a woman," O'Neill answered cryptically, pulling a shirt off the rack and looking it over before replacing it.

"I have observed this also," Teal'c said dryly. O'Neill's expression was worth the attempt at humor, even more so the smile his leader tried to conceal from him. That was satisfying, but there was something Teal'c still did not understand. He cocked his head. "Would being an 'interior designer' not mean having a well-developed sense of style?"

O'Neill dropped his hands from the shirts and made a face at him. "No, Teal'c, trust me, it doesn't," he said too patiently. "Now, can we get back to the clothes here?"

"We have not left them," Teal'c pointed out.

O'Neill did not answer, merely making a sound Teal'c could not decipher. The next moment, the Tauri pulled a shirt out and placed it up against Teal'c's neck, eyeing it and Teal'c critically.

Teal'c stared down at the shirt hanging in front of him, and at O'Neill critically.

"How about this one?"

"Are these shirts not for putting on?"

"I'm just trying to see how it looks on ya. What do ya think?"

He could not really see it, but the shirt's deep wine color – vermilion – was pleasant. "I accept," Teal'c half-bowed his head.

"Uh, not quite as easy as that. Why don't you try it on?" O'Neill asked, starting to turn away.

Interesting – he did not realize one could try out the merchandise before payment. Teal'c began to remove his own shirt.

O'Neill must have been watching out of the corner of his eye, for his speed was impressive as he turned and pounced on Teal'c, grabbing his hands to stop him. "Not here," he hissed. "In the changing rooms!"

Ah. Interesting concepts of decency the Tauri had. The females could wear outfits smaller than a staff weapon, but a male could not take his shirt off in a market without breaking the taboo. He did not profess to understand its logic, merely followed O'Neill to a doorway, mutely going where he was pointed, to a small cubicle inside.

There was only a mirror and a small bench in the cubicle. Mirrors were a new concept to Teal'c, among the many objects Daniel Jackson had shown and explained to him. They were for seeing how one looked – perhaps in this place they were to see how the new garment looked? Teal'c held the shirt in front of him, but if that was meant to be useful, he did not see how. At least he was in solitude now and could, if he understood correctly, take his clothing off and try the shirt on. Teal'c proceeded to do so, hands still a little uncertain on the small, inconvenient "buttons," but he succeeded in donning the shirt.

"How's it going in there?" O'Neill's voice came from outside.

"This shirt is not comfortable," Teal'c answered, blinking stolidly at his image in the mirror. Surely it was not meant to look so?

"Lemme see."

Teal'c waited a moment, but when O'Neill did not make any move to enter, he opened the door and stepped out.

O'Neill's eyes widened. "Uh, Teal'c, I think it's a little small for you."

A good explanation for why it was difficult to breathe. Teal'c inclined his head, lifting it again as the motion produced a ripping sound from behind him.

O'Neill groaned. "Listen, just . . . stay here. Take that off – I'll bring you some other stuff to try on. Bigger stuff." He turned away, muttering to himself. "Much, _much_ bigger."

With a silent sigh, Teal'c returned to the cubicle.

Over an hour of shedding and putting on clothing, and O'Neill's increasingly loud and incomprehensible murmurs, finally produced three shirts and two pairs of pants that both Teal'c and O'Neill approved of in color and size. Well, almost. Teal'c had wandered out at one point while waiting on O'Neill and had found a shirt of a pleasing color – he believed Captain Carter would have called it "coral" – but O'Neill had promptly declared it inappropriate for a male. Why it was there in the male clothing section he could not explain, but Teal'c accepted the verdict, if a little reluctantly. He would ask Daniel Jackson about it later; the archaeologist did not seem to have the same sense of . . . style O'Neill did.

He had also required the demonstration of something called a "zipper," a closure Teal'c had not encountered so far, but that seemed to be on non-military pants. O'Neill had declared there was "nothing to it," then proceeded to catch his finger in the fastener in an apparently considerably unpleasant manner. Teal'c handled the "zipper" with great care and deference afterwards.

Despite the time-consuming and even painful acquisition of appropriate shirt and pants, however, the mission turned out to be yet incomplete. Teal'c and O'Neill soon stood in front of rows and racks and displays of many-colored strips of cloth. Teal'c examined them, puzzled. They did not appear large enough to be any sort of covering, yet they were there in the clothing section. A decorative accessory, perhaps? A sweep of the area discovered a statue nearby which bore a shirt, an outer garment over it, and one of the strips hanging from the neck. It had no purpose Teal'c could see, nor could he determine how it was attached. He turned back to O'Neill, who was sorting through a rack of the strips.

"I do not understand the function of this item."

"They're called ties, Teal'c. Men tie them around their necks when dressing up – it's a little more formal than just a shirt. Lot more uncomfortable, too."

Teal'c frowned. "A noose?"

O'Neill gave him a wry grin. "Feels like it sometimes. But you know what they say: when in Rome. . ."

"What is 'Rome'?"

"Never mind." O'Neill pulled out a pair of the strips, one nearly the color of the ash shirt, the other black. "Whaddaya think?"

"They are not very decorative."

"They're not meant to be. I like my 'nooses' . . . colorful, myself, but I think Hammond would hang me out to dry if I brought back Mickey Mouse. Think . . . dignified." He lifted his head as if he were a model of the word.

"I did not know you were familiar with this concept, O'Neill," Teal'c said, deadpan. He didn't dare question what a rodent named Mickey had anything to do with the matter.

O'Neill blinked at him, then abruptly stuck his tongue out. "Sure I am," he answered loftily.

Teal'c's eyebrows shot up. He had never seen that gesture, but it seemed to be . . . childlike, in direct opposition to what O'Neill was saying. Teal'c had never before met another who spoke untruths so frequently without the slightest apparent intent to mislead. If anything, O'Neill seemed to enjoy clearly saying the opposite of what he did or believed.

Teal'c sometimes doubted it would ever be possible to understand this race he'd thrown his lot in with, O'Neill most of all. Although it had seemed his attempt at humor had been appreciated – as far as he could tell.

O'Neill added the two "ties" to the growing pile of clothing Teal'c held in his arms. He had seen others go by with wheeled carts in which they placed their merchandise, but pointing them out to his companion had merely produced the response that "guys don't shop with shopping carts." Teal'c almost retorted that several of those pushing the carts were males, but restrained himself. There were any number of strategic possibilities why O'Neill did not wish to burden himself with such a cart; it was not Teal'c's to question. Besides, it was not a difficulty to carry the pile. They did not seem to be in physical danger in that market despite O'Neill's wariness about the mission, and so Teal'c did not need to keep his hands free. He hoped.

Head coverings were next, and O'Neill led him to a more remote corner of the market before nodding at Teal'c to take off the hat he already wore to cover his Jaffa marking. It was a cap O'Neill himself had given to Teal'c, but the hats O'Neill now dropped on his head were different – of uniform color, without design, and with a brim that encircled the hat. It reminded Teal'c of an upside basin, but it was not unappealing. O'Neill seemed to find one he liked on Teal'c, turning him toward a mirror. The ash – grey – hat covered the gold marking of Apophis completely and gave his face a completely different appearance. Before long, he would even look like the Tauri, and Teal'c wondered what Drey'auc would think of such a husband. If she would even understand why he had become _sholva_. Teal'c's amusement disappeared.

"Don't like it, huh?" O'Neill reached up to exchange the hat for another, but Teal'c recalled himself and pulled away.

"It is . . . distinguished."

"Great. I think it's you, Teal'c."

Of course it was him. Did not the mirror always reflect truly?

"We'll get you an Avalanche cap later." O'Neill consulted a paper. "Okay. Next stop, shoes."

The SGC had already given him "shoes," footwear that covered his feet and ankles, as well as the tubes of material to be worn between the foot and the shoe. He didn't think he needed more than that, but then, O'Neill was the mission leader and the one who knew their full objective. Teal'c followed willingly as they moved to the next department, where all manner of footwear sat on display. His eyes widened at the sight. How was one to choose among so many?

But O'Neill knew what he was doing, bringing out some sort of device unfamiliar to Teal'c with which he measured the Jaffa's feet, then talked to the man in the department, perhaps the shoe merchant. The man returned with several boxes, and O'Neill thrust them at Teal'c with an order to "try these on."

They were universally black and polished – apparently black was the Tauri color for dignity. Teal'c tried all three pairs on, tying them carefully the way Daniel Jackson had shown him, standing in each so O'Neill could look at them. None felt as comfortable as the military shoes he already wore, but O'Neill said that was to be expected and to choose the one which felt least uncomfortable. Teal'c did, a pair that looked little different from the others, and O'Neill added that box to the pile.

"How 'bout these?" He indicated some of the white, inflated shoes such as those Teal'c had dismissed in the children's section. Teal'c frowned at them, then at O'Neill.

"These are not 'dignified,'" he said firmly.

"They're not meant to be. These are for hanging out," O'Neill confided.

"Why would one 'hang,' and of what use would such shoes be if one did?"

"Not literal hanging, Teal'c – just having fun, being with friends, goofing off. You know, kicking back after a long day of serving Apophis, playing hoops, having a few beers. . ." He trailed off at the growing confusion that no doubt showed on Teal'c's face. "They're for resting in, Teal'c," he finally said in surrender.

"One wears shoes in bed?" Teal'c asked, surprised. Although it would be more convenient the next time they had an alarm in the middle of sleep period.

"Not that kind of rest." O'Neill was beginning to look exasperated. It was hardly Teal'c's fault, though, if he did not make himself clear. "Not being on duty. Exercising, playing basketball, stuff like that. It's about comfort, not looks."

Teal'c could have argued that; there seemed to be many more varieties of the white shoes than of the formal black ones, so appearance clearly mattered. But he understood. They were what his sandals once had been, his non-uniform footwear. In which case, he resigned himself to the same process of trying different units, each amazingly comfortable, far more so than his sandals had ever been. All were satisfactory, and O'Neill finally directed him to select the one which most appealed to him. Teal'c chose the one with the symbol of the wind on it. It was named after Nike, the goddess of victory. They were clearly blessed shoes, and he added them to his pile with satisfaction.

"Almost finished," O'Neill muttered as he conferred again with his paper. Some kind of list? Captain Carter had given him such a piece of paper before they'd departed. Teal'c was grateful the mission was drawing to completion, as the pile had become large enough that he was in danger of losing parts of it if he were not careful. Teal'c barely changed expression when, as they passed a table on which were laid out shirts in clear wrappers, these without buttons or the flaps by the neck, O'Neill grabbed several of various colors and tucked them in under Teal'c's chin. "For hanging out," he explained as Teal'c looked at him, not daring to turn his head far. "Not formal."

A few more steps and they seemed back in the cookware section. O'Neill looked around, puzzled.

"I believe we have gone in a circle, O'Neill," Teal'c offered helpfully. He couldn't even move his chin very much.

"Thanks for the navigation tip. We're still supposed to get you a sports jacket, but I don't see. . ."

"Perhaps we could return another time? We have already chosen much today. We would not want to ride the Kradnug only to find it hard to get off." It was already more clothing than he had back on Chulak, in fact, but the Tauri seemed to need more clothing somehow than the Jaffa.

O'Neill's mouth twisted, eyebrows climbing to his hairline. "Uh, yeah, the Kradnug, my thoughts exactly. But I think you're right about the finishing later. Maybe we can talk Carter into taking you next time." He seemed unusually pleased by the thought. Apparently he had not been as anxious to go with the Jaffa as Teal'c had thought. Or perhaps he'd rethought his desire to go on this mission. Mere shopping for supplies was not the job of a warrior on Chulak, either, although on Chulak, a Jaffa was not a matter of "national security," as General Hammond had referred to it, which actually served to perhaps explain O'Neill's willingness to undertake this excursion in the first place.

He wondered about that as O'Neill led him to the place of transaction, where a merchant added up the cost of their choices and O'Neill paid using a card that worked as some form of barter Teal'c could not understand. In exchange for their services protecting the Tauri, maybe? Although they were not to know of the Go'auld. Teal'c did not understand it, watching as the pile was sorted into satchels for carrying. O'Neill already seemed to be growing more cheerful now that the mission was successfully completed. And indeed, while he did his job with good cheer and obvious willingness, Teal'c had noticed he was usually in the best mood when they were returning home, safely and successfully.

Apophis, the only other leader Teal'c had known, had shown similar glee when their excursions had found good hosts or riches on other worlds, but that had been a malicious, greedy joy. In O'Neill, Teal'c saw the pride of a job well done, the relief of his team having encountered no losses or injuries, the relinquishing of some part of the burden of command, the responsibility for his team. This was a joy Apophis had never shown. He cared little if he left corpses behind, of his own servants or those of the other side.

This was why Teal'c had joined the Tauri, in fact, this simple observance of loyalty and respect for life and freedom. Teal'c saw it daily in the leadership and activities of the SGC, but most of all he saw it in O'Neill. The Tauri was a leader he both respected and obeyed. And today, Teal'c was starting to realize, on this less formal of missions, he had come along at least as much as a friend as he had a leader.

There had been no such distinctions with Apophis. There was only leader and servant. With O'Neill, Teal'c could question, offer suggestions, make his preferences known, even invoke humor. It went against everything he'd been taught; those who were not ruled by fear were not supposed to able to be ruled at all. And yet the more Teal'c learned, the more honored he was to consider O'Neill not only his team leader, but also his friend.

Who was currently comparing the dangers of shopping for clothing to the dangers of SGC missions, with shopping evidently far ahead in risk.

". . . especially with your fashion sense, or lack of. I can't believe you wanted to get a _pink_ shirt, Teal'c. If you an' Carter pick out a pink jacket, I'm firing both of you. Black, brown, or grey, got it? And none of this 'ash' stuff. It's _grey_."

They were outside now, heading toward O'Neill's car, no other person nearby that Teal'c could see – he looked. Satisfied, he turned toward his friend and answered the complaint in a way he was fairly certain O'Neill would appreciate.

Without hesitation, and with great dignity, Teal'c stuck out his tongue.

The End


End file.
